


Bad Moon Rising -- UNDER RECONSTRUCTION

by CaptainGemstone



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Werewolf, M/M, Oops, Skeptical Hunk, Sketchy Shiro, Slow Burn, i accidentally made shiro a super confrontational derek hale, idk man, keith watches buzzfeed unsolved lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-04-24
Packaged: 2019-03-21 01:22:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 10,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13730124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainGemstone/pseuds/CaptainGemstone
Summary: Lance is too curious for his own good. He swears, he doesn't mean to get involved in everything that happens. It's just that nothing ever happens here. It's hard not to get involved.Especially when there's a werewolf turf war going on in his town, and as it turns out, he has friends involved.





	1. Animal Attack

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! This is Cap! I cranked this out fairly quickly, and will likely be editing it at some point, so sorry if there are any errors! Enjoy!

Lance has a sense of adventure too big for the town, his mother says when he’s 6 and falls from the top of the jungle gym. Maybe too big for the county. She says he should always keep it in check, otherwise he’ll lose his balance again.

When he’s 16, his mother catches him riding his cousins motorcycle. “If you don’t stop this nonsense, _it will get you killed_. You have to be careful, Lance. You aren’t bulletproof.”

He knows that. He does.

Still, he can’t help but get into trouble as often as possible. It’s just his nature.

* * *

 

“...and now, a moment of silence for those who lost their lives in the unfortunate attack that took place in Castleville earlier this week.”

Lance bows his head respectfully. After a minute, the voice comes back on the announcements. “Thank you. At this time, we’d like to remind you that there will be a candlelight vigil to honor those whose lives were lost beginning at 8pm tonight. There will be opportunities to donate money to help the Altea family cover funeral costs. You may now proceed to your first period class.”

Lance, Pidge, and Hunk leave homeroom in a somber mood. Although they don’t personally know Allura Altea very well, they can’t help but feel a weight over them, knowing that someone they used to see every day went through such a thing.

“They say she was there, you know,” they overhear in the hallway. “Fucked up. Went into shock so badly she didn’t even know what had happened when she woke up.”

“Or she was pretending,” someone else says. “Maybe she did it.”

“It was an animal attack, dumbass.”

“Or she made it look like one.”

The first speaker rolls his eyes and repeats himself. “Dumbass.”

Hunk looks to Pidge and Lance, wide-eyed. “...she was there? God, that’s horrible. Should we visit her?”

“I don’t know,” Lance replies. “We don’t really know her that well, so we might overwhelm her or make her uncomfortable. I know I haven't really been close with her since middle school.” He looks to Pidge, who has been fiddling with the dial of her locker in silence throughout the conversation, a stark line drawn between her brows.

Lance and Hunk make concerned eye contact before looking back to Pidge.

“Need help?” Lance asks.

“No,” Pidge snaps, and Lance raises his palms in mock-defense, eyebrows raised.

The first bell rings, signalling that there is only one minute before they need to be in class.

“Go ahead,” she huffs. “I’m not going to make you guys late. Teachers like me better than you guys, anyways.” That’s true. Generally, a 14-year-old junior tends to turn some heads, especially as the discussion begins to have her graduate early next month, rather than wait another year. Lance tends to turn heads for much less impressive reasons.

Hunk puts a hand on Lance’s shoulder, nudging him to start walking to their statistics class.

* * *

 

At lunch, Pidge seems to be in a slightly better mood, though her phone is going off constantly.

“Boyfriend?” Lance teases.

“Brother, sort of. Family friend.”

Suddenly, Lance switches gears. “Hey, so it’s not really any of my business, but this whole attack thing seems kind of… off? I’m not sure what it is, but it’s giving me a bad feeling.”

“Almost an entire family was brutally killed, Lance. Are you expecting a good feeling?”

Hunk twirls his fork nervously. “I’m with Lance on this one. I feel like we’re missing something.”

Pidge’s phone vibrates again and she hurriedly responds. The sound of her short thumbnails tapping the screen audible in the silence that falls over the table.

Lance turns to Hunk. “Do you want to go to the library today before we head to my house? Maybe figure out what’s going on with this?”

“Sure,” Hunk says with a shrug. “Pidge?”

She pauses, thinking, before giving a slow nod. “I have to do something first. Maybe around 3?”

“I’ll save our seats,” Hunk offers.

“Thanks, big guy. I have to go home and feed the dogs, anyway.”

“Family still out of town?”

“Yeah, they won’t be back until next Wednesday. The perks of being the only one still in school.” Lance huffs. “They all go to the beach, and I stay here and take care of the dogs.”

“Hush, Lance. You need to study.” Pidge taps on the study sheet in front of Lance that hasn’t been touched for the entire time they’ve been sitting down. “The test is next month. You need to learn this stuff.”

Lance huffs, but scoots the paper closer and hunches over it while he takes bites of the bland school pizza.

At 3pm, the group is in their favorite corner of the local library. They are close enough to a window to catch the light, but not enough to be blinded when the sun angles just so, and there are just enough chairs that no one unwanted would feel the need to join them. They had been used to sitting in the center, but too many classmates wanted help from the nicest students at the top of their class -- Pidge was the only one willing to say no, but with Hunk and Lance nearby, she’d get puppy eyes until she was nice. With their new seats, they were out of sight, giving them the opportunity to focus on their own grades.

Hunk is sitting, a small bag filled with cookies and a carrier with three to-go cups on the table in front of him. He takes a long sip of his drink as Pidge turns her computer on.

“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” Hunk asks.

“We’ll know it when we see it,” Lance responds confidently. “Fire ‘em up, Pidgey!”

“Call me that again and I’m leaving you to use the public computers.”

“Got it.” Lance swipes the paper bag, pulling out three cookies and putting them on a napkin in front of him.

Pidge snorts. “What’s the point of that ‘metabolism-boosting’ tea if you’re going to eat three cookies?”

“The metabolism-boosting tea _allows_ me to eat three cookies,” he says smugly.

“Eat however many cookies you want, just don’t lie to yourself about it,” she says as she opens Google. “What are we trying to do?”

Lance pauses. “I… did not think this far ahead.”

Pidge and Hunk groan in unison, prompting a _shhhhh!_ from the librarian. “Sorry,” they stage-whisper.

“Just find some articles about the attack, I guess?”

Twenty minutes later, they have discovered that when an attack has only happened three days ago, articles hardly vary when it comes to their contents. So they have the following information:

 

  1. A family reunion was scheduled to take place in a nearby park.
  2. A few hours after it began, a jogger found the bodies of the whole family lying mutilated near the river.
  3. They called the police, who then discovered that there were 2 survivors. One, a 19-year-old, was in shock and had to be sedated as she attempted to claw those who touched her. The other, the girl’s uncle, was found relatively unharmed, aside from some minor wounds on his arms that appeared to be defensive. He refused to cooperate with the police.
  4. The police extracted animal claws from 3 different wounds that appeared to prove that the attack was indeed due to a feral pack of animals. However, the animal itself was unidentified.



* * *

 

“Pidge, can you hack the police?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I think there’s something they’re not telling us about those claws,” he says, now with his face beside hers in front of the screen.

She looks up from the monitor and her shoulders tense. Lance follows her gaze and sees a classmate watching them “inconspicuously” from above a book. “Is that Keith?”

“Who?” Hunk asks.

“Keith Kogane,” Pidge responds, cutting Lance off. (“Aw, c’mon!”) “Top of the class. He transferred here a few months ago when he and his brother moved.”

“Wait, th-the kid who was expelled from another school for violence against a teacher?” Hunk interjects. “ _That_ Keith Kogane?”

“No,” Pidge says. “That’s a rumor.”

“How do you know all this, anyway?” Lance asks.

Pidge shrugs. “I know them.”

“Wh-- you’re only telling us this now?!”

“It’s not really your business, Lance.” As they speak, Keith is still looking over the top of his book. Pidge has locked eyes with him and is slowly, almost imperceptibly, shaking her head. Lance and Hunk are now discussing the different rumors they’ve heard about Keith, from juvie to foster care to both.

They have almost forgotten to check Pidge’s findings until Lance reaches over Pidge’s computer to pick up his tea and glances at the screen. “Does that say _wolf?_ ” he asks, loudly enough to get the group shushed again.

“ _Shut up,”_ Pidge hisses as Keith gives up trying to be inconspicuous, putting his book down altogether.

“What?”

“Lance, isn’t that Takashi Shirogane?” Hunk asks meekly, pointing out the second figure joining Keith.

“Now Shiro’s here?” Lance is looking from Pidge to Keith to Shiro, jaw slack. Keith raises an eyebrow at the display from across the room, then leans to say something to Shiro.

“They’re too far away. I can’t hear them. Can you hear them?”

“Not with you talking,” Lance pouts. Even when the group goes silent, they can only see that the two are looking at them while speaking to each other. Shiro crosses his arms, seemingly not happy with whatever Keith is saying. He pulls out his phone, types something, and puts it away.

Pidge’s phone vibrates just as the two turn to leave. “Well, I have to go, hope that was informative, see you at school tomorrow!” she says, slamming her computer shut and hurrying out of the library.

Lance turns to Hunk. “What the hell?”

Hunk shrugs. “I have no idea. What time should I come over?”

“Just head over whenever you want.”

“Five okay?”

“Yeah, sure.”

* * *

 

At around 7, Hunk and Lance are walking to Lance’s house from the store. Hunk is twitching in fear, head swivelling constantly.

“Dude, it’s fine. It’s barely even dark out.”

“I don’t really think the horrific feral animals care about what time it is, Lance.” He reaches into his grocery bag. “Aw, man, I forgot the goldfish!”

“Do you want to go back?”

“No, no, no. We are going straight home. I don’t want to be out here longer than I have to be. The trees are terrifying at night.” At that, he stares suspiciously at the small forest to their right that follows the road from the store. “Who the hell builds a store right next to the woods? Who does that?”

“It’s barely even the woods. It’s like, 20 trees.”

“It is way more than that!”

Lance sighs.

To their right, a twig snaps. They freeze.

Lance chuckles nervously. “It’s just an animal. A small, nice animal. That has nothing against us.”

The two are still standing ramrod straight as they slowly turn their heads to look in the direction of the sound.

A pair of eyes stare back at them. They drop the bags and run.


	2. The Hospital Visit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance decides to investigate further, and he knows exactly who he wants to work with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! This is officially the first multi-chapter fic I've ever posted!  
> I won't be updating every day, but I had already written this, so I figured I could just post it now.

“Hey.”

Lance looks up, pulling out his headphones. “Hey?”

Keith is standing in front of his desk and puts a grocery bag on it. “You dropped these yesterday.”

“Uh, thanks. Were you -- were you there?”

“Yeah, I was going to the store. Why?”

“Did you see the, uh, the… monster?” He cringes inwardly.

“...the monster?”

“Not like, monster, but you know, the terrifying massive animal in the woods with glowing eyes that appeared out of nowhere? You didn’t happen to see that?”

Keith raises an eyebrow. “I can’t say that I have. I can say I saw you and your friend running down the street screaming like little girls in a haunted house, though.”

“No, like, glowing eyes? Nothing?”

“ _ No,  _ Lance. Just take your stuff.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Lance says, suddenly embarrassed as he rifles through their discarded snacks and candy.

“Oh, man, goldfish!” Hunk says as he sits down. “Nice!”

“We didn’t get -- oh. Weird.” Sitting in the bag, nestled between the things they  _ did  _ buy, is a small box of what they specifically know they didn’t.

“You went back for our snacks?”

“It was Keith, actually.”

“I didn’t even know he was there.”

“Neither did I,” Lance says slowly. “But why did he give us this, anyway? He barely knows us.”

“Maybe he wants to be friends?”

“Maybe it’s a message.”

“A… message. In snacks?”

“Yeah! Maybe he really did see whatever it was that was chasing us, but he doesn’t want to say. So he gives us goldfish as a hint.”

“Or maybe we really did buy the goldfish. Or he just heard me talking about them. Seems like a reach, Lance.”

Lance is silent. Again, he feels that there is some crucial detail missing. And he’s going to find out what it is.

* * *

 

Hunk knocks gently on the doorframe, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand. “Can I come in?” he asks nervously.

Allura nods from her hospital bed. She is hooked up to different machines and an IV, bandages and casts covering most of her body. One bandage lies on her cheekbone, right where Hunk knows she has had a tattoo since she was 16.

Noticing how barren the room is, Hunk’s heart sinks.  _ Has anyone visited at all?  _ He puts the flowers on an empty table in the corner of the room.

“I’m not really sure if there’s anything I can say other than that I’m so sorry this happened to you.”

She reaches out and gently squeezes his arm.  _ It’s not your fault. _

“May I?” he asks, gesturing towards a chair by her bed. She nods and he sits by her side. “I know we don’t know each other very well, but I thought maybe you could use a friend.”

She nods, eyes welling with tears. They close tightly, then open again. She takes a deep breath and gestures him closer. He leans in, and her voice is hoarse as she whispers in his ear.

“ _ They were men.” _

Hunk’s eyes go wide. “This wasn’t an animal attack?”

“ _ They were animals, too. The wolves.... The wolves were men.” _

Hunk leans away. “Okay,” he says, gently squeezing her hand as she seems to suddenly grow heavy with fatigue.

“ _ Get them out of here. Your family. Leave while you still have a chance.”  _

He says nothing, only squeezing her hand in the silence as she is overcome with fatigue.

After a few minutes, she is completely asleep. Hunk gently pulls his hand out of hers and leaves the room.

“Excuse me?” A man says as Hunk leaves the room. He turns.

“Yes?”

“Do you know her? My niece. Are you her friend?”

“Kind of?” Hunk’s heart rate picks up, but he breathes slowly, disguising his anxiety.

“You don’t need to be scared,” the man says, and Hunk notices that he has nearly identical tattoos to Allura’s resting on his cheekbones. “I just want to introduce myself. I’m Coran. I’m her uncle.”

“You were there,” Hunk breathes before realizing the insensitivity of his comment and wincing. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I mean --”

“It’s alright. I understand. What’s your name?”

“I’m so sorry, I’m Hunk.” He reaches out a hand for Coran to shake. 

“Ah, I’m afraid my arm is out of commission for now. I assure you, when my arm has been thoroughly healed, I’ll show you that I do have manners,” Coran says, gesturing to his arm.

“Oh my god, I am  _ so sorry _ ,” Hunk splutters. God, can he fuck up this situation any more than he already has?

“It’s okay. I just wanted to thank you, really.”

“...what?”

“Allura sometimes keeps bad company. Those friends of hers…” He shakes his head. “You are the first person to visit her here besides me.” 

Hunk doesn’t bother feigning surprise. He had already come to this conclusion on his own. “Is there anything I can do for her? I can tell she’s having a rough time.”

“‘M afraid not. Only time can heal this. Even that may not be entirely effective.” His eyes are haunted as he looks through the window to Allura’s room. “I’m sorry. I’ll let you get home. Thank you for being here for her. It is a great kindness.”

“It’s not a problem, sir.” Hunk nods at him with a gentle smile and makes his way down the hall. As Hunk leaves the building, Shiro watches from his car curiously. He needs to make a decision. He just has to know if it’s the right one. Samuel Holt isn’t there to guide him anymore. So he waits.  _ Patience yields focus.  _ Only focus will lead him to the right decision this time.

 

* * *

 

Hunk can’t keep a secret. Especially when it comes to Lance. Which really doesn’t get him into trouble as much as it should.

So he makes an incredibly stupid decision and tells his loudmouthed best friend who easily jumps to conclusions that his former friend is having a mental break that was really  _ none of Lance’s business _ .

“Hunk, dude, do you know what this means?”

“That Allura needs a therapist?”

“No! No, dude. I think… I think this was a wolf attack of the ‘were’ variety.”

Hunk’s face falls flat. “Dude. No.”

“Just think about it! Wolves don’t live here. Suddenly there’s a massive wolf attack? Wolves don’t normally do that. They’re naturally afraid of humans. Unless they  _ are  _ humans.”

“Wolves attack when provoked. You really think it’s impossible that a large family gets drunk and does something stupid? Dude.”

“Except that wolves don’t live here. Not even in the state. It would have had to be a massive pack to do that. Why would such a huge group of regular-ass wolves suddenly appear?”

“Why would werewolves? Sorry, buddy, but what you’re saying just doesn’t make sense. I think the stress of exam season is getting to you.”

Lance huffs. “I’ll prove it. I  _ know _ it’s something fishy. Besides, even Keith is clearly interested. Every time we talk about it, he starts watching us. You know he’s into cryptids and shit, right? I bet he’s trying to go all  _ Destination Truth  _ on this.”

“Or he hears how weird we sound and is concerned.”

“He’s investigating this, too. Maybe I can team up with him. We’ll be forest ranger partners or something. Mulder and Scully.”

“Which of you is Mulder?”

“Both?” Lance shrugs. “I’ll find out. I’ll talk to him after school tomorrow. He’s in that self-defense club. Maybe I’ll join.”

“The dude’s just awkward, Lance. Leave him alone.”

“Yeah, no.” Lance turns back to his assignment. “What the  _ hell  _ is this?”

As Hunk leans over to explain the problem in front of him, Lance determines that even without this supernatural bullshit, he’s going to talk to Allura. They were good friends once -- hell, he had the biggest crush on her in middle school, before she changed. She could use some friends. After the attack, her two shitty friends seemingly dropped off the face of the earth. Which, in Lance’s humble opinion, was a real dick move.

* * *

  
  


“I went to see Allura.”

Pidge groans. “Lance, cut it out. She went through something. You can’t keep harassing people about this werewolf shit.”

“I didn’t talk to her.”

“Then why’d you go?”

“I mean, I was going to, but someone else was in there.”

“Did Rolo and Nyma finally get over themselves and go see her?”

“No, actually it was that guy, Shiro. He was there with Allura’s uncle.”

Pidge stills. “Are you sure?”

Lance nods, and Pidge raises her hand. When their teacher calls on her, she asks to use the restroom.

Lance grabs her arm, “Where are you going?”

“I need to do something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Maybe I can help. Do you know something?”

Pidge pulls away. “Lance. Stop,” she says seriously. “There are things you do not need to know. Okay?” Before he can answer, she’s leaving, pulling her phone out of her pocket. As she walks away, he hears her hiss into the phone, “What the  _ fuck _ are you doing?”

She doesn’t return until it’s a few minutes past two o’clock and the room is empty. And she looks pissed as she gathers her things to leave. “Why are you still here?”

Lance looks into her eyes. “What is going on, Katie?”

Pidge sighs. “The less you know, the better.”

“You  _ do  _ know something, don’t you?”

“Fuck off.”

“Pidge, what the hell?”

“Just stop! Learn to mind your own damn business for once, god.” With that, she storms off.

Lance shakes his head and begins making his way to the gym. He walks in, looking uncomfortable as he is surrounded by people who clearly know what they’re doing. He finds the club president and weaves his way through the mats that line the floor to get to him. “Are you Kolivan?”

“Who are you?”

“I’m Lance. I was wondering if I could train with you guys today?”

“You need a signed permission slip to be here. People get hurt,” he says dismissively.

“Oh. Could I maybe watch, then?”

He pauses. “Fine.”

Lance goes to the bleachers, sitting towards the top. He searches the crowd for Keith, who he sees going over different maneuvers with another member. How will he even approach this topic? He really needs to learn to plan these things ahead.

So, at 4 o’clock, after spending the better part of two hours on his phone, Lance begins to follow the club out, lingering so that he can walk with Keith.

“Do you need something, Lance?” Keith asks, wiping his neck off with a towel.  _ Oh, that’s hot. _

“Uh, um, yeah! I was wondering, um, do you… Cryptids?” Lance cringes. He spent 2 hours trying to figure out what to say and this is what he says?  _ Oh, come on, dude.  _

“Do I cryptids?” Keith lets out a huff of amusement through his nose. “Can you be more specific?”

“Sorry, I just. You’re into that supernatural type stuff, right? I mean, I’ve seen your bookbag, so I assumed you might.”

“Yeah, kind of. It’s cool.”

“So, okay.”  _ Don’t sound crazy, don’t sound crazy. Fuck, I didn’t think this through.  _ “The attack earlier this week. Does it seem… odd? To you?”  _ Smooth. _

Keith pauses, finally looking up from his gym bag. “How so?”

“Wolves don’t live near here, they don’t attack unprovoked, the fact that the news didn’t even say it was a wolf.”

“Then why do you think it’s a wolf?”

“I may have… theoretically… had a friend… hack the police department? Maybe?”

Keith sighs. He knew this kid was smarter than he made himself out to be, but what did he even expect to happen? “Maybe they were wrong?”

“What else do you suggest?”

Keith ignores the question. “What does any of this have to do with the supernatural shit I like? That’s why you contacted me, right?”

“I know you saw it. That night. Whatever it was. I don’t think these are regular wolves.”

Keith looks at him blankly.

“Dude, don’t make me say it,” Lance whines.

Keith keeps looking at him.

“ _ Werewolves, Keith!”  _ he whispers, eyes darting across the room where a few students still linger. “I’m saying I think they were werewolves.”

“My brother’s here. I… have to go.” Keith follows Shiro out of the room.

_ Fuck. Now he definitely thinks I’m crazy. _

As the two leave, he hears Shiro admonishing Keith for his “lack of discipline.” Weird. Lance didn’t see him during the self-defense training.

As Lance leaves, Shiro tells Keith to go ahead of him. He stops Lance in the hallway. 

“You’re Lance, right?”

“Um, yes? Can I help you?” Lance avoids eye contact. He’s heard the rumors.

“What were you doing in the hospital yesterday?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Why were you and your friend visiting Allura? To my knowledge, you two haven’t been friends for years.”

“I feel bad? I was kind of a dick, you know, in the past.” Lance’s heart is beating hard in his chest. No matter what Pidge believes, this guy is creepy as hell. “I wanted to make things right. Hunk is just, you know, nice?”  _ Why am I even talking to this guy, oh my god. How does he even know this? _

Shiro pauses, thinking. 

“Can I go now?”

He waves dismissively, and Lance scurries away before he can change his mind.

* * *

  
  


4-29-18

4:11pm

 

**Lance:** dude i swear that guy gives me the heebie jeebies

 

**Hunk:** Can you be more specific please?

 

**Lance:** shiro

**Lance:** he just seems so /off/

 

**Hunk:** I mean yeah he’s kind of weird but so are a lot of people

 

**Lance:** listen i know pidge doesnt think he had anything to do with it but

 

**Hunk:** I’m gonna stop you right there. Pidge does not need for you to bring this up again

 

**Lance:** thats why im talking to you

**Lance:** even if pidge doesnt think so i guarantee he had something to do with it

**Lance:** three guys go missing and only one comes back and has convenient amnesia?

**Lance:** there’s no way he doesnt at least know what happened

 

**Hunk:** We don’t have any proof. Bringing it up won’t help anyone

**Hunk:** It will just make her feel bad

**Lance:** i wont i wont okay but just listen

**Lance:** i think shiro and pidge know something about allura

 

**Hunk:** Explain???

 

**Lance:** okay so first of all the whole disappearance is fishy you gotta admit

**Lance:**  and then theres the fact that when shiro sent that text at the library pidges phone went off and she just disappeared so clearly theres something they are talking about together

**Lance:** and i saw shiro visiting allura at the hospital even though im p sure they dont actually know each other

**Lance:**  and pidge has been acting so sketchy dude

 

**Hunk:** Okay I gotta admit that’s a little weird

 

**Lance:** and shiro was asking me what i was doing in the hospital which is weird because you know im like super silent when i walk

 

**Hunk:** Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say

 

**Lance:** dudes a werewolf

 

**Hunk:** There it is

 

**Lance:** i dont htink keith knows though bc he seemed pretty skeptical

 

**Hunk:** I’ll investigate with you on one condition

 

**Lance:** ???

 

**Hunk:** Bring me some actual proof

* * *

  
  


Lance is going to figure out what the hell is going on if it kills him. He puts on every piece of protective equipment he owns -- thanks to his brief time as an umpire on the baseball team, he has a lot -- and picks up a camera and before stepping outside into the cool night air.

He has a wolf to find.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!


	3. The Hunter Becomes the Hunted (for a few minutes)

Okay, so maybe wandering into the woods behind his house on the night of a full moon is a bad idea. Lance can acknowledge when he’s made a mistake. He’s walking in a straight line, keeping his house in his sights. Luckily, he lives on a hill, so he can safely say that as long as he doesn’t go  _ too far  _ down the hill, he’ll be fine.

Unless something gets him before that happens. He can’t decide if it’s better to stare straight forward or keep his head on a swivel, so he alternates between the two. The wind howls around him, and as he enters the denser area of the forest, he hears more and more snapping twigs and rustling leaves. The hair on his arms and the back of his neck stand on end, but he isn’t quite sure why he suddenly feels so unnerved. 

Then, he realizes.

The animals have gone silent somewhere between the edge of the forest and the heavy blackness that he stands in now. Far ahead of him, something creaks, then breaks. He hears howling in the distance. He’s made a huge mistake, but…

He can’t just  _ not  _ do anything. He hasn’t come into the woods in the dead of night, barely refraining from pissing himself, just to go home with nothing. He pulls his camera from his pocket. Backing against a tree, he searches through the photo settings.

“Gotcha,” he whispers. He turns to the tree and looks above him, seeing the perfect separation of branch and trunk to wedge it into. Digging the toe of his shoe into a notch about a foot and a half off of the ground, he is able to reach it, and he quickly shoves the camera into the crevice before turning back towards the hill. The howling continues, and he looks to the moon as it glows like a spotlight in the cloudy night. He can’t help but feel that somehow, the light is pointing to him. Signalling his location.

He sprints up the hill. As he runs, he hears branches snapping just behind him. It’s only his imagination. If an animal were chasing him, it would have caught him already. The thought doesn’t comfort him in the slightest.

The same eyes that watched Hunk and Lance leave the store watch him now as he runs to the back door, locking it behind him and huffing with exertion.

* * *

 

Lance wakes up 20 minutes early for school the next day. Before waking his siblings, he treks back to the tree where he’d left the camera. It doesn’t seem nearly as far away as it did last night. He tucks the toes of his right foot into the notch, gripping a branch with his left hand for balance. He jimmies the camera out of the tree, flipping it excitedly. The screen is dark, and he realizes he forgot to change the batteries.  _ Dammit.  _ Hopefully, it didn’t die before getting his proof.

At home, he searches the kitchen drawers for batteries. His fingers are shaking as he rips a package of them open. He switches out the batteries and can’t help but feel impatient as the old camera powers up. 

When it starts up, he sighs with relief. There are plenty of pictures from last night. The camera angles slightly downhill, giving a wide scope to look through. He scrolls through more than 20 pictures, all essentially empty, before a figure appears. Lance knows who he is, just looking at his build and hair.  _ Shit.  _ He isn’t even sure what to do after he has been proven right. Normally, this doesn’t actually happen.  _ Hunk _ is the one with good instincts. Hunk should have been right.

* * *

 

He pulls Hunk aside in homeroom. “Hunk, buddy, I think we have a problem,” he says in a hushed voice, albeit not entirely inconspicuously. 

“No werewolf?”

“Worse,” Lance replies with a somber expression. He pulls the camera from his jacket pocket. “Werewolf.”

Hunk’s eyebrows crease and Lance gives him the camera. 

“It was set to take pictures every five minutes,” he explains as Hunk goes through the initial photos. “So, given that I set it up around 10:30… this picture was taken around midnight.” 

Hunk narrows his eyes. “Is that…?”

“Takashi Shirogane, in the flesh. Or, not in the flesh, really. In the photographic evidence of werewolves, I guess.”

Even in the camera’s small screen, Shiro’s muscular build and shock of white hair are unmistakable. Lance reaches over and zooms in. 

“He’s just… standing there. Maybe he’s just, I dunno, really messed up?” Hunk reasons.

“Okay, sure, but go to the next picture.”

Hunk nearly drops the camera. “What the  _ fuck?”  _ he yelps.

Shiro’s image is distorted. He’s standing in the same spot, clearly the same man, but somehow inhuman. Lance reaches over Hunk’s shoulder and zooms in again. “Look at his legs.” 

Hunk sees it. His legs are longer, bent in more of a Z-shape than any human legs should be. He’s hunched over, but Hunk sees the beginnings of  _ something  _ forming on his face. “Is that… a muzzle?”

“I think so.” Lance shivers. “What do we do?”

Hunk turns his head to Lance sharply. “ _ Nothing,  _ Lance. We don’t get involved.” He looks back to the camera, curiosity overwhelming his common sense. Looking wasn’t getting involved, not really. He pushes the button for the next picture, but it doesn’t appear. “Where are the rest?”

Lance shakes his head, taking the camera back. “I guess it died right after this picture was taken.”

“We really,  _ really,  _ shouldn’t get involved in this. It’s too dangerous.”

“Small problem,” Lance looks at him guiltily. “You know Keith?”

“Shiro’s _brother,_ Keith? Expelled mysteriously from another school, Keith Kogane?” Hunk crosses his arms over his chest. “I know of him.”  
Lance grabs his upper arm with his opposite hand, not making eye contact. “I may have gotten him to agree to investigate the werewolf issue with me.”

“Lance,  _ no.” _

“We have plans today. Maybe he really doesn’t know. You know how that kid is. He doesn’t understand people at all. What if he doesn’t know and ends up getting hurt?”

“What if  _ he’s  _ a wolf and  _ you  _ end up hurt? Then what?”

Lance shrugs. “Maybe he won’t be.”

Hunk pinches the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I’ll investigate with you.”

Lance stares at him in confusion.

“Well, I’m very well not going to let you hang out with a possible werewolf on your own!”

Lance takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

* * *

After the two o’clock bell rings, Lance makes his way to Keith’s locker. What the hell would he even say?  _ Hey, man, your brother’s a werewolf. Either you didn’t know, in which case -- surprise! Or you did know and are actually a werewolf trying to eat me, in which case, please don’t.  _

“Lance?” Keith has his bag slung over one shoulder. The strap he isn’t using is covered in supernatural-themed pins. Just glancing over it, Lance sees  _ I Want to Leave,  _ what appears to be Mothman in a suit, and two skeleton hands forming a heart.  _ Hot Topic kid, huh? _

“Yeah?”

Keith’s forehead is creased as he scans the hall for passersby. “Can we talk for a second? Like, before we leave.”

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

“I, um. I’m worried. About someone.” 

Lance looks at him, waiting for him to continue, but Keith stays silent after that. “Care to elaborate?”

Keith rubs a scuff mark from the hallway tile with the toe of his shoe. “It’s… my brother. He’s been, I don’t know, off? Lately. He’s acting weird.”

Lance blinks in surprise. Normally, Keith isn’t so ineloquent. He seems genuinely afraid. Lance puts a hand on his shoulder. “C’mon, let’s go to the library. We’ll talk about it there.”

* * *

The two are sitting at the corner table. Keith has both hands wrapped around his drink, although he still hasn’t taken a single sip. He’s curled over himself, face twisted in indecision.

“Keith?” Lance’s voice is gentle. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”  _ I already know. _

“I want to, I just…” Keith takes a deep breath, wiping his palms on his knees. “I think Shiro is lying to me. And I don’t know what it is or why he’s lying but something’s  _ wrong,  _ Lance. And I know you don’t know me that well and I’m kind of dumping this on you, but I’m worried about him.”

“Hey, it’s okay. We’re friends.”

Keith blinks in surprise.

Lance continues. “But why do you think he’s hiding something in the first place?”

Keith’s eyes stay on the lid of his travel cup. “He never stays the night at our house. And I know he isn’t seeing anyone after what happened to his last boyfriend. Last night I heard him leaving at, like, eleven o’clock. He still wasn’t home this morning.”

Lance gulps. “Keith, I think I need to show you something.” He pulls this phone out of his pocket. “I have some pictures from the woods last night. I transferred the pictures to my phone.”

Keith’s eyes widen almost imperceptibly. “What would he be doing in the woods?” He speaks in a half-whisper, as though that will keep the truth from spilling out in the space between them.

Lance can’t help but feel guilty for showing the pictures to Keith. Not for Shiro, of course. Lance doesn’t trust that he had nothing to do with what happened to Pidge’s family  _ or  _ Allura’s. But Keith, who lives with a possible mass-murderer and  _ definite  _ werewolf, deserves some sympathy.

As Keith scrolls through the photos, he subconsciously holds his breath. When there are no pictures after the final, mid-transformation picture, he releases it. “I wish I hadn’t seen that.” 

Lance gently takes his phone from Keith’s ever-tightening grip. He puts a hand on his shoulder and the two sit in silence.


	4. Shiro

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith opens up to Lance about what really happened to Shiro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones pretty short -- sorry, guys. I'm super busy lately :/

Keith raises his eyebrow at the travel cup in Lance’s hand. Lance looks at him expectantly, holding it out further.

“What… is it?”

Lance looks down in embarrassment, a light flush on his cheeks. “Hot chocolate. I wasn’t sure if you liked coffee or tea, but I didn’t want to just get something for myself. So, I figured, most people like chocolate?” 

Keith is still just looking at him, and Lance becomes horrified with his own awkward blunder. 

“B-but if you don’t like it, that’s fine! You don’t have to drink it or anything,” he clarifies, hand falling slightly.

“Sorry, I just. I didn’t expect you to get me anything,” Keith responds quietly, cheeks darkening. He warms his hands on the cup as he takes it from Lance, the two boys sitting down with equal humiliation. 

Lance opens his laptop and begins typing. “You know, I’m really not sure how to go from here. It’s been, what, two weeks?”

Keith shrugs. “It’s not like secret information on mass-murder cases are just to be stumbled upon. It’s hard. Especially since Pidge stopped helping.”

“And Hunk.”

“What?”

“Hunk told me in third period. He said he’s not really comfortable with this stuff anymore.”

Keith takes a deep breath. “Awesome.”

Lance nods. “On the bright side, I did find an old post on supernatural sightings that might actually be legit.” He spins the computer to Keith.

“ _ Real Supernatural Photos You’d Have to See to Believe: Images to Scare Even Your Most Skeptical Friends,”  _ Keith reads aloud. “Seems super legit,” he responds drily. 

Lance rolls his eyes. “Yeah, okay, the title isn’t the best--”

“Or even good.”

“...but scroll down, dude.”

Keith hits the down arrow. “Is that supposed to be Bigfoot?”

“Dude, read the caption. It literally says ‘werewolf,’ like, right there.”

“That’s just a hairy man. Pretty sure Pidge has an uncle that’s more werewolf-y than that.”

“Think about it, dude. A werewolf isn’t just gonna look like a dog, or something.”

“A wolf.”

“ _ Dude,”  _ Lance huffs in exasperation. “Werewolves are half man. Why the hell would they just look like half of what they are. Maybe some are, I dunno, more wolfy than others?”

“Lance. This is  _ clearly  _ not even partially a wolf.”

“Zoom in.”

As Keith zooms in, he notices the proportional differences. 

“See? It’s like that picture of your brother. The weird legs, the elongated face. And they couldn’t edit a photo that well in, what, 1998?”

“People were editing photos in Victorian times, Lance.”

Lance gives him a pointed look and Keith raises his hands. 

“And my brother  _ isn’t  _ a werewolf, dude.”

“He just likes to hang out in the woods. At midnight. On the night of a full moon. While changing the shape of his legs. Normal, human activities.”

Keith sighs, head in his hands. “I’m not saying there’s not something wrong! I’m  _ saying  _ that isn’t  _ it _ .”

Lance pauses, taking the computer off of Keith’s shaking knees and setting it on the table. “What’s going on, Keith?”

He hears Keith’s shaking breaths. “Something’s wrong, Lance. Something’s wrong with him again and I don’t know what to do. He’s keeping secrets again and I’m so worried.”

Lance puts a hesitant hand on Keith’s back, scooting closer to him. 

“It’s just, I --” He sniffs. “When Matt and Samuel first went missing last year, he was  _ so  _ fucked up. He and Matt were together. And he saw Katie as a sister and when that happened, he felt so guilty. He couldn’t remember anything from the whole time he was gone and didn’t know how to get them back. He would take her to and from school every day to watch her and make sure she was okay. Hell, he’d just lost an  _ arm.  _ Part of his body was missing, his boyfriend disappeared, and all he did was watch her. God, it pissed her off. But he was convinced that whatever happened to them would happen to her.”

“He remembered?”

“No. He just felt that it was someone targeting them somehow. Even if he didn’t know who that ‘someone’ was anymore. He thought it might’ve been himself, because of what people said about him, but it just didn’t make sense. There was no proof that he ever did anything. He just had a few scars, like that one on his face, and was dirty all over, but all the blood on him was his own. That’s why the cops let him go. He stayed at a hospital for a long time. He would spend weeks in the woods looking for them. He never did.”

Lance sits in shocked silence, watching the tears drip down Keith’s arms. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I’m so sorry.” And he holds him, rocking him gently on the library sofa, glaring at every person who gives them a funny look. 

“I don’t know what to  _ do,  _ Lance. I’m trying to keep an eye on him and he keeps checking up on Pidge and disappearing at night and hanging out in the woods and it feels like it’s all starting again. It-- it’s only been a few months that I’ve had him back. I had to get fostered by someone else in January so I wouldn’t get taken away again because he was so unstable. She’s technically still getting checks for having me even though I’m not living there. He was just starting to try to get me back, legally.” Keith is trying so hard not to sob. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t -- I don’t,” he sobs. He’s hyperventilating, curled into Lance’s chest. “And I know he confronted you at school and that’s really not like him, god, he’s losing it, isn’t he? He’s losing it again.” He’s gasping for air, gripping the front of Lance’s shirt.

Lance tries to slow his breathing for Keith, to give him something to latch onto. 

“I’m sorry, Lance, I didn’t mean to--”

“It’s okay,” Lance says gently. “It’s okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and kudos are always appreciated!


	5. Windup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith comes to baseball practice to hash out a few things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, guys! Sorry I haven't posted in a while. My schedule this year has been packed, so I haven't had much free time.

Lance jogs onto the field, already sweating after his near-sprint from the library to the school. He hurriedly joins his teammates, hoping to remain unnoticed.

“McClain!” Iverson barks. “How nice of you to join us. Mind telling us why you’re late?”

Lance flushes. “S-sorry, coach. My younger brother is sick, I had to take care of him. You know Luis, can’t take his vitamin c regularly, no matter how much we tell him.” He scratches the back of his neck, nearly recoiling as he feels the sweat under his nails. “I gotta make sure I’m sanitary before I leave. Don’t want to get the team sick, and--”

Iverson raises a hand to him. “How about Monday? And last Thursday and Friday?” He is  _ pissed _ . Lance cringes. His coach ignores it and continues. “You know, we have other pitchers. Keep it up, I’ll move you to the bench. Got it?”

Lance nods. “Yes, coach.”

“Three extra laps. Go.” 

Lance drops his bags by the fence, trying to keep his face from flashing hot in front of the few people who actually choose to watch baseball practice. The rest of the team begins stretching up and down the field without him, and he picks up the pace, joining the lineup when they’re already halfway finished.

He pairs up with another pitcher, Rax, to practice their drills.

“Are you okay?” Rax asks after Lance wildly misses for the fourth time. 

“Sorry.” Lance shakes his head. “Sun.”

Rax raises his eyebrows, but changes the subject. “That your friend over there?” He tilts his head in the direction of the bleachers. Lance positions his glove to catch Rax’s pitch and glances to the bleachers, where a figure has joined the others. He wears a bright red jacket.

Lance holds the ball for a second, rubbing his fingers along the stitching. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re friends.”

After a beat or two, Rax clears his throat. “Can you throw the ball, please, Lance?”

Lance snaps back into focus. “Sorry,” he repeats.

He’s relieved when they finally do team drills, thus preventing him from having another awkward conversation. Sweat beads down the sides of his face, and he squints in the light, despite the small protection the bill of his hat provides. 

“Pay attention to your teammates, everybody! You win as a team, or you lose as a collection of idiots. Go!” Iverson yells.

If Lance is glad of one thing, it’s his ability to do just that. He knows instinctively that the guy on first is about to try to steal. He turns fluidly to throw the ball, sending the runner back to his base.

Iverson watches the ball the way a cat watches a laser pointer. Lance smiles inwardly at his own observation and at his success in catching his least favorite teammate doing something stupid. This kid, whenever asked what the team has done wrong after a lost game, instantly points to Lance.  _ “The pitcher let them hit the ball!”  _ as though every pitcher has a perfect record.

“That’s it, everyone! Get some water and go home.”

Lance adjusts his hat, wiping sweat off his forehead with his arm.  _ God, I smell awful.  _

He helps gather the leftover balls into a bucket to carry to the team room as Rax dumps the leftover water out to take the jug back. As he leaves, bag slung over his shoulder, he sees another flash of red as Keith apparently decides to leave. Lance jogs to catch up.

“Hey, man. What are you doing here?”

Keith flushes. “I didn’t think you saw me,” he mumbles.

“You’ve been here for, what, almost two hours? We’ve had four water breaks. I’m not dumb. So, what’s up?”

“Want to walk with me?”

Lance nods.

“I think, maybe, it’s possible that I was wrong. About something. And you weren’t.”

“O...kay?”

“Something supernatural.”

Lance’s eyes widen. “You think so?”

“I mean, I’m not really a big believer in the supernatural, but--”

“Dude, you are  _ literally  _ wearing a Buzzfeed Unsolved tee shirt right now.”

“I’m a Shane, not a Ryan,” Keith says defensively. “I believe only what the evidence proves.”

“Then what’s the new evidence?”

“It’s gonna sound weird.”

“I literally went into the woods in old umpire gear to try to take pictures of a werewolf.”

“That’s fair.” He takes a deep breath. “Okay. I keep seeing these… long hairs in Shiro’s bed after he leaves.”

Lance stops. “He doesn’t have, y’know, a girlfriend? Boyfriend?”

Keith rolls his eyes. “Not  _ that  _ long. Like, long for a dog, but not for a person. Husky length, maybe.”

“But shorter than his hair?”

“Yes! In some places, longer. And there’s way too much for it to be from his head. He has white sheets and they are  _ covered.” _

“What about it being a dog?”

“It’s not a dog.” Keith pauses. “Wanna just go to the park?”

“Sure.”

“I mean, we don’t have a dog. And he’s not sneaking one in, for some reason, seeing as he’s been seriously afraid of dogs since he was a teenager.”

When they reach the park, Lance sits down on a bench, setting his bags between his feet. “Do you have paper and a pen?”

“Yeah, why?”

“We’re gonna make a list. Weigh the evidence.”

Keith reaches into his bookbag, pulling out his English notebook and a black pen, and sits down. “What do you want me to write?”

“Make a list of every piece of evidence we have.”

Keith scribbles for a few minutes. “Okay, now what?”

“Write an explanation for each one. Even if it’s totally stupid.”

This takes less time, but Keith adds to the original list as he thinks. 

 

_ fur: hidden dog? _

_ photo from woods: distortion _

_ hypervigilance: ptsd  _

_ weirdly territorial: ptsd?? _

_ constantly going into the woods: ptsd, matt _

_ hates high-pitched noises: they’re annoying to most people to some degree _

_ weirdly hairy: testosterone? _

 

Lance laughs. “You’re using his body hair against him?”

Keith grumbles, “I’m weighing  _ all  _ the evidence, Lance.”

 

_ likes his steak really rare: preference _

_ high body heat: he’s been feverish and it’s making him act weird? _

_ allergic to silver: allergies? _

_ acts weirder around the full moon: coincidence? _

 

“Okay, so add points to the weirdest ones. The ones that have really poor explanations.”

“So… the fur, the photo, and the full moon. I guess it’s inconclusive, then?”

Lance blinked. “Uh, sure.”

Keith glared at him. “It’s not conclusive! This is circumstantial at best.”

“Do you know what that means? We literally have a picture of him changing in the woods during the full moon and behavioral patterns to suggest lunar influences.”

“Okay, but do you really want to accuse someone of being a  _ werewolf  _ without knowing one hundred percent that they are?”

“Well, how do you suggest we  _ get  _ certain?”

Lance smirks. “We ask the only other person who’s seen one.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated <3


	6. So Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keith and Lance interview their lead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys sorry it's been a while! I've been dealing with some personal stresses and school work and stuff, but I figured I'd upload this so you guys know I haven't forgotten it!

     Lance insists upon buying flowers before going to see Allura.

  
     “What, you still have a crush on her?”

  
     Lance stares at Keith in shock. “Did you just actually forget that her whole family was murdered? Dude.”

  
     Keith stays quiet the rest of the way to the Altea house, rubbing his fingers against the purple petals as Lance drives.

  
     Lance taps his fingertips absently against the wheel in protest of the silence that looms over them. Looking at Keith’s expression, he knows the radio would only make things worse, but he still needs something. Every few minutes, he looks at Keith from the corner of his eye. Each time, Keith wears a different expression.

  
     Five minutes in, he’s twisting his hands together, eyes wide. Ten minutes in, he’s biting his lips, a crease between his brows. Fifteen minutes in, as their ride comes to an end, he’s glaring a hole in the window, knuckles turning white as he clenches his fists in anger. When they pull into the driveway, Keith unbuckles his belt, but his hand rests on the door handle without moving.

  
     “Lance?” His voice sounds tight, but somehow still fragile.

  
     Lance is already out of the car, standing with his hand on the door as he prepares to close it.

  
     “What do I do if we’re right?”

  
     Lance looks at Keith, who’s staring forward, lost and vulnerable. “I don’t know, Keith. Do you want to go back?”

  
     Keith shakes his head, lips in a thin line. “I can’t go this far and then not know. Even if I already kind of do.” He hands the flowers over to Lance. “I’m always awkward greeting people. Take them.”

  
     Keith takes a shuddering breath as Lance rings the doorbell.

  
     “Lance!” The man at the door exclaims. “Wonderful to see you, my boy!”

  
     “Hi, Coran. This is my friend, Keith. Keith, Coran.”

  
     “Nice to meet you, sir,” Keith says politely, hand outstretched.

  
     His hand is promptly crushed in Coran’s enthusiastic grip. “Hello, hello. You’re here to see Allura, I presume? She’s upstairs. You still know the way, Lance?”

  
     “Yes, sir.”

  
     “Would you like a beverage before you go up? We have water, chocolate milk… I can make you a smoothie!”

  
     “No, thanks, Coran.” Lance smiles. “We have to be somewhere soon. I just thought I’d drop by.”

  
     “... GU energy -- my personal favorite is Espresso Love, but I think you might be more of a Chocolate Outrage type. It’s for runners, but I sometimes just eat it as is! Do you still run, Lance?”

     “I do, but no thank you. I’d just like to see Allura.”

  
     “Well, take one with you for the next time you run!” He opens the pantry with his left hand to reveal a box filled with tiny packets of what Keith assumes to be “goo,” grabbing a handful for Lance with his right.

  
     Keith’s eyes widen. “Um, Mr. Coran? I don’t mean to be rude, but is your arm okay to be out of a cast yet? I heard it was injured pretty badly.”

  
     Coran’s smile falters for a split second. “No, it wasn’t.”

  
     Keith isn’t sure how to respond. “...okay.”

  
     Lance takes the handful of packets that Coran shoves into his hands. “Thanks, Coran. Keith, c’mon.”

  
     As they approach the staircase, Keith leans to Lance’s ear. “That man is a werewolf. Elevated healing?”

  
     “No, he isn’t, Keith. I’ve known him for years.”

  
     “And how long have I known Shiro, again?”

  
     “Fair enough.” Lance shoves the packets into his pocket and knocks.

  
     “Come in,” Allura calls from inside.

  
     “Is she British?”

  
     “Yes, Keith. Please focus.” Lance pushes into Allura’s room. “Hey, Allura.”

  
     “Lance! It’s so wonderful to see you.”

  
     “Coran said the same thing. I’m feeling pretty popular today.” He lets out a forced chuckle and holds out the flowers. “These are for you.”

  
     “Oh, thank you. That’s so kind.” She gets out of her desk chair and takes them, setting them on her bed, moving without the strain and effort of the recently-injured. “I know I have a vase in here somewhere that would look lovely with these.” She begins digging under her bed after placing the flowers on her desk. With her back turned, Keith and Lance look pointedly at each other. Both of them seem to be saying, “go ahead,” and both seem to be saying “no” in response.

  
     “Perfect!” Allura exclaims, having found a large pink vase under the bed. She turns around, smile faltering as she sees the tail end of Lance violently gesturing to Keith. “Is everything alright?”

  
     “Yep! All good!” Lance responds awkwardly. He scratches the back of his neck.

  
     Allura puts the flowers in the vase, pouring a bottle of water from her desk in with them. “What do you need?”

     “Oh, uh, we don’t -- we don’t really need anything, you know, but --” Lance stammers.

  
     Keith huffs quietly in frustration. “We were wondering if we could ask you about something? It’s okay to say no, but it’s to do with the attack.”

  
     Allura’s face quickly closes off. “I…”

  
     “We wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Lance says.

  
     She pauses. “Sit down, then, if we’ll be having this conversation.” She gestures to the desk chair and an elegant armchair while she sits herself down on her pink bedspread.  
     Keith sits in the desk chair, Lance in the armchair.

  
     They sit in silence for a moment. Nobody wants to be the one to break the silence, so Keith does it himself. He steels himself with a deep breath. “This is going to sound weird. Insane, actually. And maybe I’m just obsessing and blowing everything out of proportion, but, the attack.”

  
     “Yes?” Allura is beginning to look irritated at this point, and Keith cringes internally, regretting the decision to come here. Her entire family just died, and here he is asking her about imaginary creatures.

  
     Lance responds just as Keith begins planning his way out of the situation. “Hunk said he visited you at the hospital. He said you said something about the wolves being men. Could you, uh, could you maybe explain that?” Lance, ever expressive, cringes outwardly as he realizes how much they allowed this theory to spiral.

  
     But then Allura gets twitchy. “I was in shock. It’s a wonder I didn’t lose my mind after what happened. Is that all?” She’s brisk. She sits with perfect posture, but the finger tapping her bicep, arms crossed, exposes her anxiety.

  
     Keith narrows his eyes. He’s not about to be deceived so that she can keep her dangerous secrets. He opens his mouth angrily.

  
     “We believe you, Allura,” Lance says gently, leaning forward. “We don’t think you’re out of your mind. In fact, we think we might be. Or Keith’s brother might be.” Lance ignores the way Keith’s head turns sharply to glare at him. “Please, just tell us what happened.”

  
     Allura’s finger begins to tap more quickly. She takes a deep breath to speak. Closes her mouth. Does it again. She shifts, thinking.

  
     “What attacked my family wasn’t a pack of wolves. And it wasn’t a group of men, either. It was… different.”

  
     “What was it?”

  
     “Something in between. I… never mind.” She runs a hand down her face. “Never mind.”

  
     “Allura, please,” Lance is nearly begging. He’s desperate for her to answer before Keith gets too angry, before he begins to truly believe he’s lost his mind.

  
     She looks to the ceiling. “They were werewolves. My family was murdered by werewolves.”

  
     “Are you sure?” Keith demands.

  
     Lance turns around and glares, eyebrows raising quickly as if to ask, _“what the hell are you doing?”_

  
     “I’m sure.”

  
     “How so?” Keith’s arms are crossed now, too.

     “Personal experience.”

  
     “How could you possibly have personal experience with werewolves?”

  
     Allura stands up, towering over the seated boys. They watch in silent terror as her teeth elongate, leaving her with a set of sharp white teeth. She grows menacingly tall as her legs’ proportions change to a more animalistic shape. Her fingers widen, claws emerging. “How wouldn’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos are appreciated!


	7. So Close pt 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys react to Allura's reveal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry I've been MIA. I have been super bogged down by school and family nonsense, but I'm trying to get to the part that I've been waiting to write before I end up forgetting what I already have planned

     Lance does  _ not  _ scream when he sees his friend, half-transformed into a monster, towering over him. He does  _ not  _ scream, he does  _ not  _ cover his face with his arms, and he definitely does  _ not  _ jump out of his chair to hide behind Keith.

     Keith definitely  _ does  _ stand up and brandish a knife, though.

     “What the  _ fuck?!”  _ Lance yells. “What the  _ actual fuck? _ ” He’s doing this odd, bird-like movement with his head jutting out from behind Keith to look at Allura and swiftly moving back again.

     Allura turns back into her fully-human self as easily as she transformed. “Yes, I’m sure they were werewolves. So, why did you ask?”

     Lance just looks at her, eyes wide. 

     Keith doesn’t lower the knife, even when she’s small and human, seated on her cutesy bedspread and looking as fragile as any other teenage girl. “Was your whole family werewolves?”

     “Why did you ask?” She repeats cooly. 

     “I think someone I know might be one. Why did they attack you?”  _ Two can play at this game.  _

     “According to our sources, there’s a pack that’s been moving across the US, stealing territory from other packs, but we don’t know why yet. Whom do you know who you suspect of being a werewolf?”

     “My brother. Who’s your source?” At this point, Lance is leaning around Keith to watch the conversation with interest. It’s an unrelenting back-and-forth, like verbal ping-pong, although Keith seems significantly less in control of the situation than Allura. 

     “We have someone in the pack who knows their way around a computer. They stole some files. What’s your brother’s name?”

     “What’s your hacker’s name?”

     “I can’t tell you that.”

     “Then why should I tell you my brother’s name?”

     “Because you want to know if he is or is not a werewolf. My family was a fairly influential pack. We have had countless connections to every pack in the state for hundreds of years. So if he is a werewolf, I know. But I also have to maintain the safety of my pack. I’m sure you understand.”

     “I thought your family was your pack?”

     “We’ve recently joined with a different pack. They’re significantly weaker than we were, but they offer more protection than Coran and I do alone. The only thing more dangerous to the lifespan than being a werewolf is being a lonely one.” She pauses, gaze icy. “I’ve already told you enough to seriously endanger both myself and my uncle. You’re lucky I trust Lance. You came into my house and pointed a silver blade at me. If not for him, I’d have ripped your throat out in a second. I assure you that I’m much stronger than most of my kind, even without backup.” She is rolling and unrolling her hands so that she is forming a fist and releasing it every few seconds. “Now. Tell me who your brother is.”

     Keith grits his teeth together. “Takashi Shirogane.”

     Allura’s eyes widen. “You’re Shiro’s brother?” She steps back.

     “So, he is one of you, then.” Keith’s white-knuckled grip on the wrapped handle of his knife waivers.

     She takes a deep breath. “You… you weren’t supposed to know about this, Keith. If I had known you were his brother…”

     “Well, to be fair, we kind of already knew,” Lance says, now standing at Keith’s right hand. He nudges Keith’s raised arm. Keith pushes his hand back with his elbow. He’s in a house with two  _ werewolves  _ and Lance really thinks he’s going to put away a knife that turns out to be made of actual silver? Yeah, that’s not gonna happen. 

     Allura’s eyes are now closed, a crease forming between her brows. “You need to go home, Keith. Our pack bond is very fragile right now and we cannot afford to ruin this alliance because you meddled in our affairs. I don’t even know if he’ll forgive me for exposing you to it.”

     “Technically, uh, Shiro exposed us both to it,” Lance points out. “So if you get yelled at, that might be, y’know, a good point to bring up. And, yeah, we’ll be… leaving. Bye.”

     He goes to the door pulling gently at Keith’s arm that isn’t equipped with a knife. “ _ Keith,  _ let’s go.” 

     Reluctantly, Keith follows. His back is tense, spine straight as a rod, as he listens for the sounds of Coran humming in the kitchen. They slip out of the house uninterrupted.

     The beginning of the drive to Keith and Shiro’s house is as silent as death. Then, as if on cue, they both speak at once. 

     “What the  _ hell,  _ man.” “My brother is a fucking werewolf.”

     There’s a beat of nothing and the two start laughing. 

     Lance huffs out, “Fucking  _ werewolves _ ? Seriously?”

     Keith runs a hand over his face. “Can there be one part, just  _ one,  _ of my life that isn’t completely ridiculous? Just one.”

     “God, that explains why he was being so weird to me, though,” Lance says, shaking his head in disbelief. “Like it was an insult to him, personally, that I visited Allura. They’re, what, packmates? I don’t know if that’s a word. I don’t think it is one, actually.”

     Keith snorts. “I don’t think either of us are in the position to say anything about werewolf lingo.”

     “Oh, of course, werewolf lingo.” Lance mock-slaps his forehead.

     After a beat, Keith speaks again. “There’s something else going on there. Someone’s keeping her quiet. Maybe Shiro.”

     “What are you talking about?”

     “She outright told Hunk that she was attacked by werewolves. And she’s clearly a big player in the whole wolf dynamic that’s happening right now. So why did she decide to tell people about it in the first place? What made her change her mind?”

     Lance says nothing for a few seconds. “The whole territory thing seems a lot more political than what I’d expected. I thought they’d be a lot more Neanderthal about it. A lot of grunting.” He smiles at Keith briefly. “Me Shiro. Me piss on you tree.” He uses his left hand to beat his chest as he makes a turn with his right.

     “Tarzan wasn’t a Neanderthal, Lance.”

     “You don’t know that.”

     “ _ Yes,  _ I do! He’s a human! His parents are humans!” Keith raises his hands in exasperation. “How do you not know this?”

     Lance purses his lips. “...the soundtrack is the best part of that movie, anyway.”

     While Keith would normally celebrate the victory of having almost gotten Lance to admit to having been out-Disneyed (a technical term), he’s staring at his house as they approach the driveway. 

     The doors are open, swinging back and forth in the breeze. As a curtain moves away from a window on the front of the house, he sees a flash of movement inside. “Someone’s inside.”

     “What? We’re way too far away. There’s no way you can see that.”

     “Speed up.”

     Lance raises his eyebrows, but the car picks up a bit.

     They’re barely in the driveway when Keith tears off his seatbelt and hurries out of the car.

     “Hey! Hang on,” Lance is still fumbling with his seatbelt when Keith disappears into the open front door. “Keith!” He slams the door shut as he follows. 

 

     The house is a wreck. There are broken framed photos on the ground under the tiny nails in the hallway. Pillows have been ripped open, spilling fluff everywhere. In the kitchen, all the drawers have been yanked out of the cabinets entirely. Lance nearly steps on a knife as he attempts to maneuver around the glass of a broken window. In the middle of it all, Keith stands, shell-shocked. Lance is selfishly relieved that he can’t see the expression on his face. 

     “Keith?”

     He turns abruptly, face hard. “Go home, Lance.”

     “What? No way. I’m staying right here. Or, uh, if you’re leaving, I’m staying  _ not here _ .”

     “No, you aren’t.  _ I’m  _ going to go find my brother.  _ You  _ are getting in your car, driving home, and pretending this didn’t happen.”

     “Why the fuck would I do that, huh?”

     Keith steps up, nose-to-nose with Lance. He raises his eyebrows. “Because I told you to. Get out.”

     “No.”

     “Fine,” Keith says, shoulder-checking him as he makes his way back towards the door. “Then I’ll leave.”

      Lance moves to follow. 

     “Follow me and I’ll bust your kneecaps.” Like hell was he letting Lance get ripped limb from limb, or whatever would happen to him if he got involved. “I don’t want you here.”

     “Kei--”

     Keith turns on his heel. “We aren’t friends, dude! I got what I needed, so  _ stop getting in my way _ .”

     “Keith…” Lance watches, standing by the driver’s side door as Keith disappears into the trees. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments and Kudos are appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it! Feel free to leave comments and/or kudos to let me know what you think <3


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